


A Misfortune

by spoilersweetie



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Fortunes and Misfortunes of Moll Flanders
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoilersweetie/pseuds/spoilersweetie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Tardis takes the Doctor to an eighteenth century ball, and there he meets a familiar face...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Misfortune

**Author's Note:**

> A cracky sort of crossover fic, most certainly not to be taken seriously. I wrote this in humour so hopefully it will read that way too and amuse you a little :) Enjoy darlings :)

Eyes narrowed, the Doctor reads the scanner, trying to pick out anything conspicuous. Earth, England, eighteenth century, somewhere in Kent, some sort of ball in a grand house…nothing out of place that he could see. He scratches his head thoughtfully. “Why’ve you brought me here old girl?” He mumbles to his machine.

He’d been _trying_ to get to Elaxatron Five, a wonderful planet inhabited in the thirty-third century - had a fondness for bouncy castles. And hot-chocolate. With marshmallows. Okay so maybe he was moping a bit since Amy and Rory had left but he’d been sure hot chocolate with marshmallows and bouncy castles would cheer him right up.

Except his Tardis didn’t seem to agree, and instead of Elaxatron Five she’d brought him here and refused to move again. Sometimes he wondered if she was just going funny in her old age. 

The Tardis groans loudly at that thought and he rolls his eyes, patting the console fondly. “I’m only joking dear,” he soothes her. “You know I love you anyway.” Sighing heavily he straightens the lapels of his jacket and checks his bowtie. “Well! Since I’m here might as well have a look round ey?” He says, bounding down the steps. “Always did love a good ball!”

The Ball turns out to be disappointingly dull, but then, he doesn’t know what he’d expected from the eighteenth century. Dreadfully dire period of time. He dances a bit, but gets some very odd looks and several disapproving frowns before he remembers that people don’t generally dance on their own in this century, and swiftly removes himself from the floor or respectfully twirling couples.

A bit sulky (he’d wanted bouncy castles), the Doctor makes his way over to the confectionary table and is quickly cheered up by the many silver platters of delicate little cakes. He helps himself to three, and is busy choosing his next and so engrossed in the task that he steps sideways right in to a lady who’d been doing the same thing.

“Oh! Beg pardon sir,” apologises a familiar voice as the woman turns to face him with a smile.

“River!” He exclaims in surprise, his face immediately lighting up and the rest of his so far mediocre evening suddenly promising to be a lot less dull. He lets his gaze sweep down over her figure, eyeing the period costume appreciatively. When his eyes meet hers again he grins. “This century suits you.”

Her brow crinkles, confusion crossing her face. “I… don’t believe we’ve met sir.”

“ _Oh,”_ he grins at her. So she was playing this role fully was she? He clears his throat and grandly bows before her. “Forgive me for being so rude my good lady, allow me to introduce myself,” he greets her, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “I’m the Doctor. And you are?”

Her face lights up and she smiles widely at him, dipping in a curtsey and offering him her hand. “Moll Flanders sir, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He takes her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, looking up at her and meeting green eyes that shine as she gazes back.

“So,” she says as he drops her hand. “You’re a _Doctor_ are you?”

“The Doctor, yes.”

“Oh,” she giggles slightly. “Well… what an honorable profession.”

He raises his eyebrows and grins at her. “Indeed it is.”

“I dare say you’re a busy man, Doctor, and you must… earn a considerable living I’m sure…?” She is gazing at him curiously and he can’t quite put his finger on the look in her eyes. It’s a little odd, he has to admit, but there’s clearly some reason she’s refusing to drop character.

“Oh - well, yes I suppose I do,” he replies, playing along.

“Hmm,” she comments, her eyes leaving his to observe the party going on around them as she takes a sip from the wine glass she holds in her hand. “You must have a great deal of knowledge about… human anatomy sir,” she says, her tone casual, although the way her eyes slide briefly to his belie the dirty meanings in her pretty head. His River would never change.

He fights a grin. “Oh yes - I dare say I know the human body _inside_ and out.” (He’s got quite good at this flirting thing now, and he smugly tugs the lapels of his jacket straight).

She smiles into her glass, taking another sip and they stand in companionable silence for several moments, watching the festivities. Finally, he can take the tension no more; he is itching to talk to her properly - there must be a reason she is here and the Tardis had brought him to her… he inches closer and leans down to speak quietly to her.

“So what are you _really_ doing here River?”

She turns to look at him in surprise. “Pardon?”

“Come on - it’s no co-incidence… what is it?”

Her brow furrows. “What is what?”

“ _River_ ,” he says. “I know you must have a reason for coming here, is something going on?”

“Sir… I think you may have me confused with someone else…”

“Right, right,” he says quickly, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know why you insist on playing this part so well but I’m sure you must have your reasons.” His eyes widen then and he turns to look at her intently, leaning in to ask, his voice dropped. “Are we being watched?”

Her pretty face frowns in confusion. “Watched, sir?”

“Right, of course, you couldn’t say. Sorry.” He glances around suspiciously, then steps closer, placing a hand on the small of her back, leaning in to speak quietly again. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private then?”

She gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “Sir! You assume greatly - we have only just met!”

He frowns at her, a bit confused, but decides she must have a reason for her act. “Right.” He says, clearing his throat as he steps back. “Yes - sorry.”

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she rakes her eyes over him, and a slow smile comes to her face when her gaze lifts back to his. “However…” she purrs, stepping close again. “I suppose… it would be easier to talk and um… _get acquainted_ , somewhere a little less noisy would it not?”

There is a familiar glint in those green eyes and a smirk that suggests all kinds of thoughts in that pretty head of hers. The Doctor raises an eyebrow at her.

“It would.”

“Well then,” She smirks, smoothing hands over her bodice and he offers her his arm which she takes with a smile.

“Lead the way, my lady,” The Doctor invites, grinning at her.

She walks quickly, guiding him through the ball room and slipping out of a door towards the back to hurry down a grand hallway. They reach a staircase and she turns to him, biting her lip with a smile before letting go of his arm to take her voluminous skirts in both hands and hurry up the stairs, giggling a little as he laughs and sprints up after her.

They dash down a corridor at the top of the staircase and she pauses in front of a door, flashing the Doctor another one of those looks before turning the handle and slipping inside what turns out to be a lavish bedchamber.

As soon as he closes the door behind them he turns to face her. “Right what’s going on then?”

She smiles and moves over to stand by the bed, eyebrows raised. “Well, sir, it appears to me that you and I have found ourselves alone.”

He raises his eyebrows, moving towards her. “So it seems…”

“Whatever could we do now?”

He _had been_ going to press her to find out what was going on, but her eyes are gleaming in the lowly lit room and her red lips are curled into a smile and – and her hands are flirting with the ties at the top of her bodice and – he’s crossed the room to her before he can think any more.

Just one kiss, because it’s always too long between the times when he sees his wife, and she looks so damn _good._ One kiss, and then down to business.

She makes a sort of squeak as he grabs her hips and presses his mouth to hers, the noise sounding utterly shocked and yet delighted at the same time – like this hadn’t been exactly what she’d been asking him to do with that seductive gaze of hers. Her small hands fist in his shirt and she kisses him back fervently, moaning into his mouth as his hands roam over her curvaceous form, deliciously enhanced by the corset she was encased in beneath her lavish gown.

“Okay, okay,” he forces himself to mutter, pulling away from her to look into her face, both of them flushed and panting. He takes hold of her shoulders to hold her at arm’s length. “Tell me what you’re doing here first, River.”

 Her face scrunches into an adorably confused frown, and she tilts her head before she grins at him. “Well…” she says, letting her gaze trail over his form in a pointedly obvious way, one hand moving to let her fingers dance up his torso. She drops her voice. “I’d thought that was obvious, _Doctor_ …”

“No, not – not _here_ ,” he stammers out, trying to ignore her nimble fingers starting to work on loosening his bowtie. “I mean _here_ – in this place – at this ball.”

“Oh.” The confused frown is back. “Well – the same as you, I suppose?” She laughs a bit. “Why are you asking these things? You are a little strange sir, but I must confess…” She leans in, looking up at him under her lashes. “I like it. It’s… rather refreshing.”

He shakes his head. “No, River – what’s going on?”

She blinks at him. “Why do you keep speaking of rivers sir?”

“No – _you’re_ River!” He cries, frustrated.

She laughs. “I don’t have a river!” She pauses. “Are you sure you don’t have me confused with someone you know?”

“What? I…” He shakes his head again. “I just want to know what’s going _on_ …”

Another laugh. “Well nothing just yet but we can change that,” she leans in to whisper, little hands roaming again.

He tries to hold her off as she gets his bowtie undone and starts quickly on the buttons of his shirt. “No, but – but Ri –“

“Shh,” she presses her finger to his lips, stepping closer so all of those glorious curves are pressed up against him, hips pushing forwards into his, and the Doctor rather forgets his point for a moment.

“Why don’t you help me out of this dress, Doctor,” she suggests, voice a sinfully low purr, “And you can demonstrate all that wonderful _knowledge_ you have on the human body.”

He blinks at her, still utterly confused as to why she isn’t dropping the charade now they are alone – why instead she seems intent on – on doing _this_ without even breaking character – “Oh.” It suddenly clicks. “ _Oh_ …” He grins widely at her and steps closer. “You naughty girl,” he says, sliding his arms round her waist. Really, he doesn’t know why it took him so long to catch on; it wasn’t like they hadn’t role-played before, and he knew how much she loved it. She’d just… never been so fully in character before - but no matter. Any more time musing over it was time wasted, he decides firmly, and tugs her close, pulling her body against his.

She makes a sound of surprise and giggles - _giggle_ s - not a sound he’d heard from River’s lips before but he wasn’t complaining; it was quite a turn on, as was the way she was running small determined hands up his torso and under his jacket, pressing herself even closer as her fingers went back to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“Oh my bad girl,” he murmurs delightfully into her hair as his hands roam her back. “Well.” He says, and clears his throat, stepping back a little way to smirk at her. “We’d better see about getting you out of that dress then, hadn’t we Miss… I’m terribly sorry, I was overcome by your beauty and I fear your name slipped my mind, what did you say it was again?”

“Flanders,” she reminds him with a grin, as her hands move to help him with the ties on her gown. She leans up on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “Call me Moll.”

\--

‘Moll’ had been… quite the experience, and an hour or so later the Doctor lies tangled with her beneath the heavy sheets, tired and utterly sated. His hands strokes absently through mussed curls, in complete disarray now, half out of the pins that had held in place the intricate updo she’d styled it in. He turns his head to bury his nose in her curls and inhales, smiling. “It’s darker,” he observes. “It suits you.”

“Hm?” Comes the sleepy response.

“Your hair.”

There is a few seconds silence. “Sir, you are very strange.”  She moves back enough to gaze at him with big dark eyes and a smile. “I like it though,” she confesses, and he lets out a chuckle, tapping her on the nose affectionately.

“Oh, I know you do.”

She laughs, and snuggles deeper into the pillows, giving a small yawn, and the Doctor too settles back down, pulling her closer.

Utterly content, he rests his head on her chest and lets his eyes slide shut as he listens to the gentle beating of her heart.

Her heart.

… Her… _heart!?_

His eyes fly open and he presses his ear closer to her chest, then moves it over to the other side. Then back, then over again, then back. One heart… there is _one_ heartbeat…

“Mmm what are you doing Doctor?” Moll mumbles sleepily, shifting beneath him.

Slowly, tentatively, the Doctor lifts his head to stare down at the woman beneath him with wide eyes.

“…You’re Moll Flanders.”

She giggles a bit. “You are _so_ strange sir.”

“You’re… not River.”

Another soft chuckle as she shakes her head. “I’ve been telling you that since we met. Who _is_ River?”

“She’s…” He swallows. “My wife.”

Moll shoots upright, dislodging him from her chest. “Your _what!?”_

_“_ I thought you were her!” He exclaims, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“ _What!?_ I _told_ you who I was sir - I told you from the very start… - you’re _married!?”_

“I…”

Shoving him angrily, Moll scrambles out of the large bed, grabbing her clothes off the floor and frantically wrestling herself into them.

“I’m sorry!” He tries, as he also starts hurriedly dressing. “I honestly thought you were her –“

“But I told you who I was!” She snaps over her shoulder as she yanks crossly at her corset stays. “Total – waste – of time,” she mutters each word crossly to herself as she yanks the garment tight.  

The Doctor swallows. “I – I know you told me, but I – I thought you - she – _you_ were her playing a game…” He tries weakly.

Yanking her dress over her head, Moll huffs. “Some game!” Not bothering to tie her dress, she grabs her shoes off the floor and makes for the door.

“I’m sorry!” He apologises again as she yanks open the door.

“Goodbye sir!”

It slams loudly behind her.

Muttering and cursing himself under his breath, the Doctor finishes dressing too, and leaving the room, makes for the Tardis, cursing the damned old machine for bringing him here in the first place – cursing himself for being so _stupid_ , cursing Moll for looking so much like his damn wife – and cursing River while he was at it for being such a bloody minx of a woman that he’d made the assumption in the first place!

Storming crossly into the Tardis, he takes back the last part, and sheepishly mentally apologises  to River for having inadvertently slept with another woman tonight. Thank the heavens she wasn’t the jealous type - but he decides he’d prefer to keep this embarrassing little misadventure to himself all the same - he had a strange feeling she would laugh her head off. 


End file.
